Mangal – Our man behind the wheel
Travelling in Himachal in June – 2007
Shimla >> Manali >> Rohtang >> Chandratal >> Ki/Kibber/Tabo >> Kalpa >> Shimla
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Most of my trip to Himachal was planned and arranged with the help of our traveller friends. Mangal, the driver who took us through Lahaul, Spiti and Kinnaur was referred to me by a friend in Delhi.
I called Mangal the day we reached Manali, and we setup a meeting. Until we met, we had no clear plans on our journey beyond Manali, though I had a rough idea. It would be a choice between Leh and Spiti. After discussing for almost an hour, we finally decided that it is going to be Spiti.
Mangal had spent many long years behind the wheel, driving tourists around the mountains of the high Himalayas. His paunch looked like a beer belly, but it was acquired over years of work that required him to burn very few calories. In fact he was a tee-totaller, a variety rare among drivers. When he spoke with his soft voice, he always let out a gentle smile that barely revealed his front teeth under the trimmed moustache. He had an easygoing air that would put people at ease. In a few minutes of talking with him, we were relieved of our anxiety of meeting someone who had every chance to cheat gullible tourists.
Mangal always spoke with an air of authority and a confidence held by the firm belief that he knows what he is speaking. And when it comes to driving and travelling in Spiti, he definitely knew his stuff. He knew people all along the way, and in places where he did not, he would make new friends in no time. He had a charm that opened up people to him easily and held them in his trust. After a long day of driving, we stopped for a cup of tea in the evening somewhere where he seemed to know none. He sneaked his Sumo slowly next to a man standing beside the road and waiting for a bus and characteristically said ‘haanji’ with his usual gentle smile and an air of familiarity. The conversation hence started with a stranger lasted for a good fifteen minutes while we had alighted from the jeep and were already done with our tea!
People were delighted to have him to talk to, and were always willing to lend him an arm of assistance when needed. We were looking to buy tickets to Delhi from Shimla at the end of our journey and it was just a matter of going to a nearby ticket counter and picking them up. But a friend of Mangal who was talking to him eagerly jumped in to help and sent an assistant of his to get it done. He was there to find way even with things a little more complicated. When my fellow-traveller spotted a couple of traditionally dressed Kinnauri girls when we were driving, he wanted a picture. But pahadi women usually dislike being photographed, and he turned to ever-reliable Mangal to intervene. ‘Let us see what we can do,’ said Mangal, drove up to them and started wielding the magic with his ‘haanji’. A minute later, the girls were willing to be photographed even when they were a bit reluctant about it.
I realized I never took a picture of Mangal. Here is his Tata Sumo that took us around
It was not just his people skills that helped us through the trip, but his driving skills too. He was a man committed to his work and to his clients, and was ready to go extra mile to make us go back happy. We were early in the season and some of the roads were still in the process of getting cleared after the winter. The jeep drivers coming from the opposite direction told us that the road to Chandratal Lake–an amazingly beautiful lake that was a short deviation from the main road–was closed, but he kept our hopes alive and was confident of driving up there.
‘These drivers are not honest,’ he would say, ‘sometimes the road will be open but the drivers are uninterested in the extra drive. They will just lie to the tourists. And they can’t tell us the facts because their customers sitting behind would get to know’.
And sure enough he drove us to Chandratal on a road that was just opened, but too painful and dangerous to drive.
He would also extend a helping hand to anyone who would be in need. When he saw a tiny M800 wading through a stream crossing the road, he waited and watched to ensure that they crossed safely. When a Ford Endevour had a punctured tyre on the terrible road to Chandratal, they would never have managed to change the tyres and make their way ahead without Mangal’s help. No wonder people all over the route knew him well and respected him so much. And once he was done with the Endevour, he laughed as we moved on and remarked produly – ‘these big SUVs are useless for really tough terrains. Its the Tata Sumos like mine that really survive’.
Mangal did give us his share of pains too. In his bid to give good value to us, he once negotiated a place to stay for a night, came back to us and told us he had found a good place, inexpensive. It was the last day of our journey and so far we had stayed in nice little clean places. We presumed it is one such place and gave him the green signal without inspecting it. But it turned out to be a dingy, grimy place I would never ever want to stay in. It was too late to get out, so I simply unfolded my sleeping bag and took refuge in it in a corner of the room.
He was also fun to be with, talked a lot and cracked a joke every now and then. The journey to Spiti was memorable for its beautiful landscapes, but being with Mangal made it all the more enjoyable.
Continued at Batal and Chandratal